


Papa Wolf

by kitkatkaylie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Ned Stark is a good dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:26:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28717254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatkaylie/pseuds/kitkatkaylie
Summary: Ned Stark may have his faults, but the inability to walk past a crying child is not one of those faults.
Relationships: Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Jon Snow & Ned Stark, Ned Stark & Renly Baratheon, Ned Stark & Robb Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 73





	Papa Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Certain people are to blame for this, and they know exactly who they are. 
> 
> Any hatred aimed towards Catelyn will just be deleted.

His brothers hated him, that was the only explanation. They hated him, and he must have done something truly terrible for them to want to send him away.

Robert was King now. He was too busy for his baby brother. He was too busy to have Renly around him, not when he had a kingdom to solidify his hold on and a wedding to plan.

(Not when Robert’s future wife had already made it clear she despised Renly.)

It made sense that Robert was sending him away. He didn’t need a useless child following him around.

It was Stannis’ hate that hurt though. Stannis was Renly’s  _ hero _ , the one who had looked after him throughout the whole siege. Stannis was the one who had looked after Renly since Mother and Father died, he was the one who had tucked Renly into bed every night, and given him a patchwork stag toy (which Renly had named Stanny in his hero’s honour) to keep away his nightmares. Stannis was the closest thing to a mother  _ and  _ father that Renly had, and it hurt to be looked on by him with such hatred.

It wasn’t  _ Renly’s  _ fault that Robert had given him Storm’s End, and that Stannis had been given Dragonstone. But- but Stannis seemed to think that it was. 

Stannis hated Renly for Robert’s decision and it wasn’t fair at all. Or, if it wasn’t for Robert’s decision then it was because he had always hated Renly and now had a reason to show it.

Renly was eight years old, practically a man as everyone said, he could live without his brothers loving him. He wasn’t a baby, not when he still had Stanny to guard his dreams and be his friend and keep him brave. 

But, he didn’t want to go back to Storm’s End. He didn’t want to go back to the place where he had nearly died. The place where he would have starved to death if not for Ser Davos’ onions and Stannis being so stubbornly strict with them all.

It was a place that features often in Stanny’s nightmares, and Renly would have to comfort him! He didn’t mind being a brave boy and looking after Stanny, but Stanny would become very, very scared if they had to go back. Renly didn’t want his only friend to be scared, not when he might be the tiniest bit scared as well.

But Robert and Stannis wouldn’t even look at him, let alone listen to him, and he didn’t know what to  _ do. _

* * *

There was a child crying. 

There was a child crying near Ned, and although he had not yet met his newborn son and he struggled to look at Jon without seeing Lyanna dying, he still felt a surge of parental concern for the child. 

Especially when it seemed that no one else cared about the crying child.

Ned followed the sound as best he could, through the corridors until he thought he might have found the source behind a great stone column.

There was a surprisingly familiar small boy, huddled in a small ball behind the column. The boy had black hair, and was wrapped in a yellow cloak.

“Lord Renly?” Ned asked tentatively, unsure how the child would react to being discovered.

The boy’s head shot up, and he looked at Ned with swollen red eyes and a face covered in tear tracks.

“My- my lord?” Lord Renly sniffed, rubbing at his nose with his sleeve, “I- I am sorry if I disturbed you with my weakness.”

Ned wanted to hit whoever had told a small child that crying was weakness. And he had a horrible suspicion that he would be hitting Robert for that fault.

He crouched down and offered Lord Renly a handkerchief. “You did not bother me, my lord, would you perhaps like to talk to me about what has made you so sad?”

The little boy took his handkerchief and blew his nose noisily, “Please.” He whispered, “If it is not too much bother.”

Ned stood and help out his hand, “As comfortable as the stone floor surely is, I am sure that the cushions in my quarters are far more comfortable.”

Lord Renly took his hand with a watery giggle and started to skip alongside him.

“Lord Stark? Why do you keep calling me ‘my lord’?” 

Ned thought carefully, “Because it is polite. I’m sure your brother, Lord Stannis, has explained to you all about courtesies and why they are important. You have not given me permission to call you merely by your name, therefore it would be rude for me to do so.”

Lord Renly nodded, his expression serious even while he swung on Ned’s hand, “Well then, please call me ‘Renly’, Lord Stark.”

Ned smiled at how adorably sweet his serious expression was, “Then I am ‘Ned’.”

Renly nodded, and the two of them walked the rest of the way to Ned’s chambers in companionable silence. 

Once inside, Ned led Renly to sit on one of the myriad of overstuffed chairs. 

“Do you think that you are ready to tell me why you were crying?” Ned asked gently, sitting across from Renly.

Renly sighed, “I guess so. I- I- Robert is sending me back to Storm’s End and Stannis isn’t speaking to me and- and they both  _ hate  _ me.”

Well, that certainly explained why he was so upset. Ned was sure that he would have had th same reaction if he was being sent away by his last family. 

“I’m sure they don’t hate you, sweetling.”

The diminutive just slipped out, but Ned could not regret it, not when it made Renly look up at him with such sweet awe.

“But then why won’t Stannis even look at me?”

Ned did not know how to answer such a question, not when it was such a delicate situation. 

He was saved from having to answer though by a small whimper from the next room, one which Ned was already so very attuned to.

Renly followed him to the chamber where Jon slept in a crib that a servant had found for him upon their arrival. His tiny face was scrunched up in displeasure, but his eyes were still closed and sleep appeared peaceful. 

“This is Jon,” Ned said softly, “He’s my bastard.”

Renly’s mouth opened with awe, and his too-thin fingers reached out to touch Jon’s tiny nose.

“He’s very small.” The little boy said, “And he looks like you!”

His voice rose in volume at the end. It was enough to wake Jon, and he blinked awake with a sharp wail.

Ned had to brace himself to pick up Jon, to hold the baby who had killed his sister, and cuddle him close.

“Shh, shh Jon, I’m here.” He crooned, “No need to cry.”

Slowly Jon stopped his wails, instead he looked up at Ned with his large grey eyes.

(Eyes that Ned sent daily thanks to Old Gods and the New for being grey instead of violet.)

He was a placid babe, that was true, and when he did cry it was rarely for long.

“Lord Stark?” Renly gently tugged on his sleeve to get his attention, “Why did Jon cry?”

Ned took a deep breath and pasted a smile on his face, “It’s ‘Ned’, not ‘Lord Stark’, you don’t need to call me by my title, remember? And Jon was crying because he didn’t want to wake up, and he was a bit scared.”

Renly nodded with an adorably serious expression, “Like when I was so hungry and cold that Stannis let me share his bed? And he held me close and I didn’t want to ever wake up because I felt so safe?”

Ned wanted to rage that a child had been made to deal with the terror and uncertainty of a siege, instead he placed a hand on Renly’s shoulder and squeezed gently.

“Exactly like that.” A thought struck him as the wide blue eyes looked up at him with such hope, “Say, Renly, how would you like to visit Winterfell?”

* * *

There was the faintest chance that Ned’s wife was going to kill him when he arrived home.

He would not blame her if she did, not when he was not only bringing home his supposed bastard but a traumatised child he had  _ technically  _ kidnapped from the king.

Technically.

Robert would definitely believe him if Ned said that he’d agreed to let him foster Renly while drunk. It might be slightly more difficult if Stannis was the one to discover Renly missing and so convince Robert that he had been stolen, but Ned didn’t think that was going to happen.

Not when he had conspired with Maester Cressan, the Maester who had all but raised Stannis and Renly, to take Renly away in the first place.

They had agreed that any attempts to contact Renly would be sent to Winterfell without Stannis or Robert knowing, something that Ned supposed was treasonous but didn’t really care.

He was already committing treason for one child, what was adding one more?

“Ned,” Renly said in a tremulous voice as he tipped his head back to look at Ned, “Do you think Lady Stark will like me?”

Ned smiled down at him, “Of course she will, sweetling, how could anyone not like you?”

“Stannis doesn’t. Nor does Robert.” The little boy said sadly, “If my brothers don’t like me then how could anyone else?”

There were some moments where Ned was sure that if he had Robert or Stannis in front of him he would quite happily throttle them. And this was certainly one of those moments.

He was unable to say anything more though, for the gates of Winterfell stood before them, the home he had never expected to be lord of awaited him. 

His wife stood in the centre of the courtyard, her bright hair a beacon of colour, her Riverlands style gown standing out just as much. 

He would have to offer to have gowns made for her, for her own gowns surely would not be warm enough for her during the colder days.

“My lord.” She curtsied once he had dismounted, keeping the bundle of furs in her arms incredibly balanced, “Might I present to you your son: Robb Stark.”

Ned surged forwards to see the babe better, to see his tiny nose, and bright blue eyes, and a wisp of red hair just peeking out of his wrappings.

“He’s beautiful.” He said softly, “My Lady, you have made a perfect son.”

She flushed, obviously happy with the compliment, and her shoulders dropped slightly as though she had let out a sigh of relief.

Footsteps behind him and Lady Catelyn’s eyes widening told him that not only had Renly joined him, but that Jon and his nurse had as well. Something confirmed when Jon let out a slight wail.

“This is Lord Renly Baratheon, my ward.” Ned said, somehow finding the courage to meet his wife’s eyes, “And Jon Snow, my bastard.”

Catelyn’s pleasant smile dropped, and her gaze turned frosty.

“I see.” Her voice was as cold as the snow on the ground, “I shall arrange for a chamber to be prepared for Lord Renly, and as for your bastard-“

Her voice trailed off and she raised an eyebrow, as if questioning why he had brought his supposed bastard to her, why he had insulted her in such a way.

“Jon will share the nursery with Robb.” Ned decreed quietly, “They will grow up as brothers.”

Lady Catelyn purses her lips but nodded, “As you say, my lord.”

Ned supposed he did deserve her frosty tone, it was a grievous insult to place a bastard on the same level as a trueborn son. But he couldn’t just let the last piece of Lyanna grow up without the comforts that her son deserved, even if it meant he upset his wife.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @istaricelebelasse


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